


Cherry Blossoms

by LtTanyaBoone



Category: NCIS
Genre: Backstory, F/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-16
Updated: 2011-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-15 15:18:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/528669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LtTanyaBoone/pseuds/LtTanyaBoone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malachi and Ziva, how they met and how they parted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cherry Blossoms

**Author's Note:**

> This came from a discussion on tumblr which in turn was stirred by Cote's comment on Ziva's tattoo during the Facebook Chat she did a while back.

_Disclaimers:_ NCIS, the rights to the show and its characters do not belong to me. No money was made by this.  
 _Spoilers:_ everything, especially for the S8 episodes _Enemies Foreign_ and _Enemies Domestic_  
 _Pairing:_ Malachi Ben-Gidon/Ziva David  
 _A/N:_ This is somewhat of an AU, in the sense that I have taken liberty to give Ziva a certain tattoo and fill blanks in her past that we were never informed about. It could technically be true, but I highly doubt it is.

* * *

  
_Tim McGee:_ "What brings you to DC?"

  
_Malachi Ben-Gidon:_ "The cherry blossoms."

  
_Tim McGee:_ "That's in the spring, actually."

_~Enemies Foreign_

* * *

Eighteen year old Ziva David hit her fist against the container door in anger, hissing at the pain the impact caused.

"It doesn't open from the inside." the other recruit reminded her, not even looking up from the assault rifle he was inspecting. Ziva turned around to glare at him in the semi-darkness.

"Really? Who would've thought." she spat, kicking against the door again to vent her frustration. Now the young man lowered the gun and turned to her, tilting his head slightly.

"I know you." he suddenly said, setting down the rifle. Ziva stared at him, raising an eyebrow.

"You're the new one. The one who always sits alone. Who barely talks. The one with all the anger."

Ziva snorted. "Wow, you must be a genius." she spat at him, pushing past him to sit down on a box of grenades.

"Careful." the male recruit reminded her, turning around slowly. "If those go off, we're screwed." he added. To his surprise, Ziva looked away suddenly, blinking rapidly, her breathing speeding up. "Hey, you're not claustrophobic, are you?" he asked, sudden worry in his voice. She looked at him sharply, swallowing thickly.

"No, of course not." she said, trying to make her voice sound as angry as it had been before, but his comment had thrown her for a loop, and from his frown, she knew he hadn't bought it.

"You okay?" he slowly walked over to her and tried touching her shoulder, but she leaned back quickly to get out of his reach.

"Yes. Just, leave me alone." she told him, turning to face the wall. He remained standing, still staring at her before he gave a shrug.

"Suits me fine." he told her and went back to the guns.

She didn't know how much time passed. She wasn't good at keeping track of it, and she wasn't wearing a watch with her uniform since the first day of basic training, when the strap had caught in a fence and snapped. Now it was lying under her pillow in the barracks, along with a picture of her sister and mother. Both were presents from Ari, he had given her the watch for her birthday this year. The picture he had snug into her book when she was packing. She hadn't even realized that it was there until she was unpacking her things after she arrived. An immense sadness had overcome her followedx by the ever-present and much easier to deal with anger, and she had been tempted to tear the photograph into pieces and let them scatter in the wind. Until she had looked around to see if anyone had caught her sudden change in mood and her fighting against the tears that were threatening to spill. But everyone had been too busy staring at their own pictures, and she figured that she could allow herself to have a reminder of home with her. Still she had folded it so that she was only looking at one person at a time. It was so much easier to look at Tali without the constant reminder that their mother was now merely scattered pieces of flesh, an empty casket in her grave. There hadn't been enough left intact for them to bury a body after the explosion.

Ziva quickly shook her head to get rid of the images her mind conjured every time she thought about it and turned around again, watching the male recruit handle the gun in an attempt to distract herself. She actually knew him, too. At least she had seen him around. He was a loner, like her. Didn't spend too much time with his unit. He had caught her eye on the shooting range when they had been given adjoining stands and she had watched his grip on the rifle briefly before she had returned to her own shooting. During their morning exercise, she had sought him out, watching him. Unlike others who started fast and gradually slowed down until they were barely able to keep up a run at the end, he had a constant pace, not bothering when people passed him because he knew he would catch up with them sooner or later. She had struggled with the distance at first, but then she had forced herself to match his pace one day, keeping behind him so he didn't see her. It had been tough, because she knew she could go faster in the beginning, but by the time they were doing the last laps, she had been glad she had forced herself to match his stride, because she had been able to keep running constantly that time. Ever since then, Goldman hadn't gotten into her face because she wasn't meeting physical requirements and more, but chosen to pick on her marksmanship instead.

"Do you want to shoot your way out?" she questioned the other recruit and he gave a low chuckle.

"Tempting. But the possibility of ricocheting bullets is a little too big for my liking. And while I doubt that you would mind being torn to shreds, I actually am quite fond of living." he told her.

"What makes you think that?" she asked, frowning in confusion. "That I want to get myself killed." she added when he gave her a questioning look. The boy set down the rifle and closed the wooden crate to sit down on it, facing her.

"Only people who have a death wish get into Goldman's face like that." he said and Ziva snorted.

"Yeah, well, look where it got me." she gestured. "Doing inventory. And getting locked into a weapon carrier. Great job, Ziva, really."

The young man's face lit up and she frowned at him again. "What?"

"I was trying to find out your name." he told her, a small grin on his face. "It's beautiful."

"If your next sentence is 'like my grandmother's', I will shoot you." Ziva pressed out between her teeth, but the guy shook his head.

"I wasn't going to say that. My grandmother's name was Sarah." he told her, his voice soft. Ziva swallowed. She knew that sound in people's voices. She knew her own sounded like it when she talked about her mother.

"Since you know my name now, what's yours?" she tried steering the topic away from his family and his thoughts.

"I only know your first name." he reminded her and Ziva rolled her eyes.

"Fine. Ziva David." she gave in, waiting.

"Malachi Ben-Gidon." he answered, offering his hand. She hesitated a second, her eyes flickering between it and his face, and he was starting to draw it back when she finally grabbed it, feeling Malachi squeeze hers gently. She suddenly found herself smiling at him.

* * *

"Why are you always alone?" he asked her, swallowing a bite of bread. Ziva shrugged.

"I don't get along too well with others. After a certain time it becomes… stressful. I figured it would be better if I stayed away from the beginning this time." she told him, tearing off a small portion of her lunch and eating it. Malachi nodded thoughtfully. "So, you know what I did to get myself here-"

"The whole unit knows." he interrupted, chuckling. It wasn't every day that you got to watch a new recruit yell in the face of their training officer. It had been quite a sight, and Malachi thought that the man had deserved it, that Ziva's protest and outburst had been justified. But that hadn't prevented her from experiencing what happened when you stood up to your superiors like this. This wasn't a day camp for wealthy kids to have some fun and play soldiers. This was the real deal, and their officers tried to make them understand that, with the full consequences for their actions awaiting them.

"What did you do, to deserve the Wrath of Goldman?" Ziva asked. Malachi looked away and grabbed the water can, taking a sip of the warm liquid.

"There was a suicide bombing in Tel Aviv." Malachi started, and Ziva felt her heart speed up as her throat closed up. "My grandfather died in it. I was sad, and someone was saying I had no right to be. People lost their sister and brother, children died with all their lives still ahead of them, but my grandfather had already lived his. And I lost it. I punched him, and before I knew it, we were fighting on the ground when Goldman and Rosen came out of the Casino. They caught us, everyone said I had thrown the first punch as it was the truth, and I was punished." he told her, giving a small shrug.

"That boy had no right to say this." she softly whispered. Malachi looked up at her in surprise. "It doesn't matter how old they are, no one deserves to die this way." Ziva added, and Malachi gave her a soft nod. She looked away, swallowing thickly. "My mother died that day, too. She was in the shop where the terrorist was."

She felt Malachi's hand on her thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze as she pressed her eyes shut and covered her mouth to keep herself from sobbing loudly as the tears rolled down her face.

"I'm sorry, Ziva." he muttered as she silently cried over her mother's death.

Malachi checked his watch.

"Do you think they'll notice us missing dinner?" she asked him and he gave a soft sigh.

"I doubt it. Goldman told us to report to him once we are done. He knows it will most likely take us until the middle of the night, by which time we'd be too afraid to wake him in fear of more punishment. I doubt he expects us before breakfast tomorrow." he answered her and saw her shoulders sag as she hit her head against the container wall.

"I am so hungry." she muttered softly.

"I know. But we still have some water, that's more important." Malachi told her and Ziva sighed, closing her eyes. "My grandmother, she used to make this lamb stew. It was fantastic. My mother tries making it when she wants to cheer me up, but… it's not the same." he said, resting his own head against the iron wall.

"Were you two close?" Ziva asked him, opening her eyes again as he nodded.

"Yeah. She died almost three years ago. I miss her, a lot." Malachi admitted.

"How long do you have left in the IDF?"

"Twenty months, two weeks and four days." he answered.

"Do you… miss home?" Ziva softly whispered. She was afraid of having overstepped the line when he took some time to answer.

"Sometimes." he softly said. "But it's not the same any more. The last few months, they've changed me. And it feels like I miss an idea rather than a place." he shrugged. "Doesn't make sense, does it?"

"Actually, it makes a lot of sense." Ziva told him, closing her eyes again.

* * *

"Dare." she answers immediately when Malachi tells her it's her turn.

They found a few flashlights in one of the crates and have turned one on to make some light in the dark that the carrier has been drowned in since sunset.

"Kiss me." Malachi says, his eyes widening when she recoils slightly from him. "Sorry. I didn't mean- I'm really sorry, Ziva." he apologizes, waiting for her to nod. "You know what, let's stop playing." he says, shifting his legs to stand up, but before he can so much as straighten, she is leaning across the space, her lips brushing his.

"Your turn." she mutters, her voice husky.

"Dare."

"Kiss me back." she demands and he happily obliges, leaning forward to catch her lips again, nibbling at her bottom lip briefly before he starts teasing her with his tongue and feels her respond easily. They abandon their game in favor of this much more pleasurable activity, and by the time Ziva breaks the kiss, they are both breathing heavily. He has managed to pull her to him and she's straddling his lap, looking down at him slightly as he strokes his hands down her back. His pants have grown uncomfortably tight and he knows she felt it when he sees the surprised expression in her eyes. Shit.

"Sorry?" he tries, but Ziva shakes her head slowly.

"Don't apologize, it's… a weird compliment, I guess." she shrugs, giving him an awkward smile, one he returns before she leans back in for another kiss, her hands going to his chest as they start unbuttoning his fatigues. He feels her hands run over the skin of his now naked chest and lets go of her so he can take it off, his hands going between them to unbutton her blouse in turn. She's watching his hands, biting her lip, and if that isn't enough, her slight tremble when his hand brushes against her chest confirms his suspicions.

"First time?" he asks her, kissing the skin over her breastbone as her hands clench on his shoulders almost painfully. When he looks up, he sees her nodding, insecurity shining in her eyes. "We don't have to do this, Ziva." he mutters, pulling her down for another kiss, letting up on the intensity.

"I want to." she insists, rocking her hips against his before she kisses him again. Slowly, he breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against hers.

"Okay, let me think."

She contents herself with nibbling on the skin of his shoulder as he looks around the weapon carrier. He doesn't want to take her up against the wall; that really doesn't feel right. The wooden crate doesn't sound too good, either, because if they get splinters, this will be very weird to explain. That is, until his eye catches sight of a stack of blankets in the corner.

"You need to get off." he tells her, hearing her groan.

"Why?" she asks, sounding like a petulant child.

"Because I don't wanna explain dents in the wall or splinters in my skin." he answers and Ziva reluctantly gets up, catching the blanket he throws her. When he nods to the crate he just sat on, she catches on and spreads it on it, waiting until he is done with his before she starts attacking his mouth again, her hands going straight to the buckle of his belt.

"Woah, easy there." he breaks the kiss, grabbing her wrists to still her hands. "Sensitive, okay?"

Ziva rolls her eyes at him.

"Just because I have never had penetrative sex does not mean I have not seen men naked or never made out with a boyfriend." she reminds him, pulling down his zipper with surprising gentleness.

"Sorry." It seems like she can make him apologize for pretty much anything right now, but if it gets him laid, he will gladly continue to do so. Just as she pulls down his pants, he pulls her against him again, kissing her with newfound urgency. "Boots off." he instructs her and gets to work on his own. When he is done and gets rid of his pants, too, he finds her fidgeting suddenly. Gently, he grabs her hands and pulls her against him, kissing her nose and cheek before brushing his lips against hers again.

"As I said, we don't have to do this." he reminds her as his hands reach for her pants, but she makes no move to intercept him and lets him pull them down to reveal a black thong that's matching her bra. "You're gorgeous, Ziva." he whispers against her lips, gently steering her to sit on the crate. It's long enough for her to rest her upper body on it comfortably, and he leans over her, kissing his way from her neck down, gently sucking on her skin but careful not to leave any marks that would give them away. Slowly, he pulls down her thong, Ziva lifting off the crate so he can take it off her. She's staring at him, her dark eyes wide and nervous, and he flashes her a grin, his hand tracing the ink on the skin on the inside of her thigh, fingers following the pattern. She shivers and he feels the goose bumps erupt on her skin. "They're beautiful. What are they?" he mutters, kissing the tattoo gently and Ziva closes her eyes, a soft moan escaping her.

"Cherry blossoms." she mutters, watching as he crawls up her body again to kiss her, his hips pressing against hers. She gasps at the feel of him through his briefs, her hands wiggling between them and she tugs at his underwear, arching into him, trying to get the cloth off him. He gets up again, pulling his underwear down and tossing it on the pile of their other clothes before lowering himself to her again. She's biting her lip as he rests one of his hands next to her head to brace himself, the other going right between her legs. Ziva arches her back and rocks her hips into his touch, a soft gasp falling from her lips.

"Oh fuck." Malachi mutters at finding her already wet for him. Her nails dig into his shoulder as he rubs her gently before inserting a finger, waiting for her to get used to it before adding a second one. Her movement stills and she presses her eyes shut, tensing slightly. "It's okay, just relax." he tells her, leaning in for a kiss as she draws a shuddering breath.

"You've done this before?" she asks, insecurity dripping from her voice, so different from the strong, independent woman he met this afternoon. He nods.

"Yeah. But we were both virgins, so..." he admits, and Ziva nods once, her hand wrapping around his biceps.

"Let's get this over with." she tells him, her voice shaking slightly. He furrows his eyebrows at her, unsure.

"I won't be mad if you don't wanna go through with it, Ziva. Really, if you-" Her silent glare silences him, though. "Okay, this may-"

"I know it's gonna hurt, Malachi." she interrupts him. "Just don't draw it out, will you?"

He nods, withdrawing his hand and aligning himself with her body, hooking one of her legs around his hip. He slowly inserts the tip into her and feels her tense up, her eyes clenching shut as he braces his other hand against the crate, too. Hovering over her, he waits for her to open her eyes again. Ziva lets go of one of his arms, clamping her hand over her mouth before nodding once, and he pushes into her. Her nails dig into his biceps painfully and he can feel her tense up even more. There's a brief resistance that gives way and pain flashes through her dark eyes before she clenches them shut. He can hear her whimper as he buries himself into her. He shifts his hands slowly so he can rest his forearms on the blankets of the crate to be closer to her and rubs his nose against hers.

"Try to relax." he mutters, kissing away the tear that is trailing from the corner of her eyes. Ziva slowly opens her eyes again and takes her hand away from her mouth, drawing a shuddering breath.

"Oh damn." she whispers, her voice husky with tears and he shifts so he can push her hair back and gently strokes her cheek before kissing it.

"I'm sorry." he apologizes. He knows it didn't hurt that much for his former girlfriend, but then again his older sister said that every girl is different. If he had known how much it would hurt for her, he wouldn't have let Ziva talk him into doing this. Speaking of which, the girl shakes her head, swallowing and turning her head to catch his lips in a soft kiss that transforms to urgent when she gives an experimental roll of her hips. Encouraged by her actions, Malachi starts moving slowly. It doesn't take long before he feels her grip on his arm falter and her mouth falls open, panting heavily as she arches her back into him. Her hands twist into his hair and she's gasping his name before she pulls him down for another kiss, her hips moving against his. He's just about to reach between them because he can feel himself getting close when her muscles start clenching around him and she moans loudly, throwing her head back so it hits the wooden crate. He watches her, mesmerized by her face and her expression before he lets her pull him over the edge with her.

* * *

Ziva is snuggling against him, her head resting against his shoulder, her forehead brushing against his neck. She's lying almost completely on top of him, their legs tangled.

They got dressed again when they felt the night chill settle, and are now covered with the blankets they found, trying to keep warm.

"I'm cold." she mutters, rubbing her nose against his neck. He gently strokes her back and kisses her forehead.

"I know." he whispers back, drawing the blanket tighter around them. "Go to sleep, Ziva." he tells her, clicking off the flashlight. To his surprise, she shivers against him and turns it on again.

"I don't like dark, enclosed spaces." she tells him before closing her eyes and sighing. He watches her fall asleep, her ear pressed against his chest so she can listen to his heartbeat. And Malachi suddenly realizes what a big mistake this was. He swore he wouldn't get involved with anyone while he was in the IDF. It's the reason he broke up with his former girlfriend, because he didn't want to subject her to wait two years. And now he has slept with a female recruit, which, if they are found out, will get him kicked his ass to Hell. But that's not the worst. The worst is that he finds himself falling for her, falling hard and fast without a parachute. And he knows that when he hits the ground, it will end in disaster.

* * *

Twenty year old Ziva David was standing at attention in her father's office, waiting for him to acknowledge her. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence between them, and had been part of her childhood before, so she was fairly used to it. Finally, he signed the last paper and set down his pen before looking up at her, looking her over. She stood, tolerating his scrutiny.

"I am confused." Eli David began, and Ziva furrowed her brows. "I was informed you and… Ben-Gidon were in the IDF together. I thought you would appreciate being given him as sparring partner."

And suddenly she realized that it wasn't her father's way of telling her he had her watched. It wasn't her father who had figured out just what exactly her and Malachi had been doing in the IDF before he had been transferred and then joined Mossad. She should've known from the start that this had someone else's name written all over it.

"I was merely trying to make it easier for you, Ziva. But if you do not want to, I can arrange-"

"No." she interrupted her father. "No. I am sorry. I did not mean that I do not want to be his partner, I just thought that, since he joined before me, he will be ahead and giving him someone who would be more able to keep up with him-"

"First off, this is not your home. You will address me as your superior here, Ziva, and that means not interrupting me. Is that understood?" her father asked her sternly, and Ziva nodded, biting her lip to keep herself from apologizing. "Good. And I saw your physical evaluation. You are at the top of the new recruits, and pairing your with any of them would be a waste of your talent. Ari informed me that Ben-Gidon has trouble with his current partner and needs a new one, and we felt it was a good opportunity not to waste your talent and give him a new face to look at."

Ziva nodded silently again. "Understood."

"Good. He is being briefed by Hadar, you can go join the two downstairs." Eli dismissed his daughter. Ziva snapped to attention before turning around and making for the door. With her hand on the handle, she hesitated.

"Papa?" she asked, turning around slowly to see her father watch her with an exasperated expression. "Has… Tali, did she talk to you?" she softly asked. Her father sighed, and Ziva knew the answer.

"Some things are hard to understand for children. You left for the IDF when she was still reeling from your mother's death. She needs some time to get used to you being back, but working." her father said and Ziva nodded, giving him a fake smile before she left his office. She found her new partner where her father had said he would be, and after an awkward handshake, they both sat down and listened to the information Hadar had for them for their first mission, feeling Malachi's eyes on her every once in a while as she continued to look at Hadar or stare at the folder in her lap.

* * *

She doesn't know how it happens, exactly, but suddenly, she finds herself alone with Malachi. Liat was escorted out by Tony, both quite eager to continue their constant flirting with each other. Just another thing on a long list that ticks her off about the woman. And the man now in the room with her.

"Cherry blossoms?" she asks Malachi, raising an eyebrow. He actually has the decency to look chastised.

"I am sorry, it was the first thing that came to mind." he apologizes and she shakes her head.

"You are very lucky that Gibbs wasn't around. He's actually the only one who knows what they are and I am pretty sure he would have skinned you." she tells him, trying to go for nonchalant and failing. It hurts, his comment, more than he can imagine. Because it's a lie, he isn't here to see her, he's here on a mission and to fuck his new partner if the time allows for it.

To her surprise, he fixes her with a long stare, one that makes her skin crawl.

"What?" she exclaims, her patience wearing thin and irritation building.

"Nothing." Malachi shrugs. "It is good to see, Ziva. You look… happier than last time."

Ziva snorts. "That surprises you?" she snaps. "Given the circumstances of your last visit?"

He slowly shakes his head, looking away.

"I apologized, Ziva."

"You were my partner!" she yells at him, hitting the table in anger. "You were supposed to have my back. I went for Saleem to protect you, I told you to stay away because you would have only gotten yourself killed with that shoulder. And you thank me by coming here on my father's orders to drag me back to Israel and Mossad!"

Malachi clenches his jaw and looks at her again, his dark eyes shining. "I am sorry, Ziva." he repeats his words from the Interrogation room over a year ago, the words he had parted with. She shakes her head. It's too late for that now. What's happened has happened and there is no undoing the past.

"What I said, in the alley…" he begins and Ziva finds herself yearning for him to apologize for what he said. "Liat is a good officer, and my new partner. But she cannot replace you. No one ever could."

Her heart is beating wildly in her chest and she doesn't have a clue what she is supposed to say now. Given the manner of their last meeting, she can hardly believe that he really missed her, and his comment in the alley stung. But there's a sadness in his eyes that she has rarely seen. And if she's honest with herself, then one of the only things she misses about Mossad is him, being able to be around him.

"You _are_ missed, Ziva. And not just by me." he adds before he brushes past her, squeezing her hand briefly before he leaves the conference room, leaving her standing there by herself, her eyes clenching shut to prevent the tears from falling.

_fin._


End file.
